


The germs of better things

by harnatano (orphan_account)



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 01:24:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5145137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/harnatano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maglor's plays: A family tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The germs of better things

Since he’s a child, Maglor writes plays to celebrate his parents’ begetting days.  
Since he’s a child, he directs these plays written in his parent’s honor.   
Two plays a year, one for Nerdanel, another one for Fëanor.   
And of course, the performances are always full of surprises.

The cast is always the same: Maglor and Maglor’s brothers.

During the first decades, only Maglor and Maedhros. Short plays, sketches, dialogues with a lot of mime, a few songs and dances. It was cute, promising for such a young child, and his parents love everything about it.

When Celegorm arrived, Maglor was overexcited, and as he looks at the baby, he can already imagine the fantastic parts he will write for him. Before Celegorm can walk, Maglor has already given him the most important part in his new play. Baby Tyelkormo is crawling on the stage, disguised as a mighty lion, and his brothers are trying to escape from his threatening claws (from cardboard). They all have a lot of fun, and that’s how Celegorm learns that scaring his brothers can be one of the most entertaining things to do.

Celegorm grows up, Huan is adopted and he has to become a part of the show; The third born insists. Soon after, the dog appears to be a fantastic actor, Celegorm teaches him a lot of tricks and Huan, just like Tyelkormo, can do all kind of amazing stunts.

A short while after Caranthir’s birth, Maglor understand it would be much more difficult to make an actor out of this loud baby. And indeed, Moryo is never happy with the parts that are given to him. Even when it’s the most important one. Moryo is pouting during the rehearsals and during the shows, he is so shy and scared that he can barely say his text. With a lot of patience, Maglor manages to teach him a few techniques to overcome the stage fright ; Caranthir appears to be a excellent tragedian, and his capacity of memorization is impressive. Not only he knowq his lines, but he also knows the entire play by heart without even trying.

Curufin arrives, and as he grows up, Maglor can already see the ressemblance with their father; Perfect, they have an actor to play Fëanor! And it would work very well if Cuvo wasn’t… Curvo. He never agrees with the directions or with the texts, he spends the rehearsals contradicting Maglor with remarks as ‘No, father wouldn’t say it like this.’ or 'This verse would sound better if…’

Needless to say it never ends well.

After many interventions from each brother, Curufin finally accepts to follow Maglor’s directions, only to change everything the day of the show, causing the ruin of the entire performance.   
(He can reverse the plot with one sentence, leaving the other actors speechless. He usually uses this oportunity to take the leading role and to himself all the credit).

With Ambarussa, Maglor is overjoyed. Two more actors! He has a real troup now!  
The twins are amazing actors. Very good with mimes and silhouettes. And luckily, they are comfortable enough on a stage to respond properly to Curufin when he changes the lines (or the plot). The two of them hiding under the huge, very complicated costume of a giant worm is enthusiastically applaused by Fëanor and Nerdanel, the two parents very impressed by their youngest sons’ credibility in this part.

The plays themselves evolve a lot with the years. From simple stories, they become hilarious comedies or complex tragedies, though the ending is always a happy one.

And despite all the efforts Maglor put into these family plays, the performances are always a bit…. well, with such a cast there is no way it worls. Only the dog manages to stay in character during the whole play.

–

It’s Fëanor’s begetting day again, and sitting beside the fire place, Maglor remembers his parents’ faces when he and his brothers so proudly recited the lines he had written.   
He remembers the child he was, the young poet who could already make laugh or cry with a few verses.   
He remembers his father’s laughters, the tears of joy at the corner of his eyes as his third born – only a child riding Huan - pursued his older brothers accross the stage.   
He remembers the tender smile on his mother’s face when little Caranthir had appeared with a butterfly drawn on his face, the beautiful lines of the wings around his grey eyes. He remembers Caranthir refusing to wash his face because he found himself pretty with the make up.   
He remembers Maedhros’ clumsy movements the first time they had danced on the stage, and his improvements until he became the most gracious prince of Tirion.   
He remembers Ambarussa’s singing duet, the purity of their young voices spiralling in the air and enchanting their parents.   
He remembers Curufin stealing his lines. He remembers how angry he was the day Curufin changed the play, turning the hilarious comedy into a pathetic tragedy just by changing a few words in his lines. He had smacked his little brother on that day.

But the play is over now. The actors and the audience aren’t there, and the playwright has no happy ending in mind. And yet, his eyes are following the lines he just wrote down; a never-ending play he completes twice a year, on his parent’s begetting days. A play which would never be performed, verses which would never be read, and lyrics which would never be sang.

One more line and he puts the play aside, only to take a white page where he starts to scrawl the first letters of a missive. This one is for his little brother, and Maglor asks about Himlad, about Tyelperinquar and Tyelkormo. 

_How is Huan? Still so big?_

_How many of your men are currently watching the Pass?_

_New threats from the North?_

_Oh and one last thing, Curvo… I apologise for the slap, the one I gave you the day you ruined my play.  
You deserved it, but I shouldn’t have done it._

_May you forgive me, brother.._


End file.
